


I Saw You and You Smiled

by Emiline



Series: Come Live with Me and be my Love: Adventures of Young Gwen and Algie [1]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Backstory, Ballroom Dancing, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Minor Original Character(s), Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Young Algie, Young Gwen, a smidge of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-31 05:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17843168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiline/pseuds/Emiline
Summary: She smiled, and inclined her head. Before he quite knew what he was doing, he realized that he had raised his arm slightly and had waved at her in a tentative manner. He took the hand and shoved it under his arm, mentally chiding himself for being a fool.But then she waved back at him, and, emboldened he made his way through the crowd to her side. “My lady,” he greeted her, executing a low bow. “May I have the honor of this dance?”Young Algie and Gwen meet at a masquerade in London.





	1. The Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains a major spoiler for the season 2 episode "The Extraordinary Esper Vespertilio", and a spoiler for "Love at First Sight".
> 
> About a month and a half ago, I wrote a fic ("Tell Me a Story, Tell Me a Tale"), in which Algie and Gwen tell Sybil's class the story of how they met, which then got me thinking about (especially with Hovercraft79's prompting) about looking at what that story looked like at the time that it was happening, not decades later when the story had been polished into the version that they choose to tell others.
> 
> Although Tell Me a Story, Tell Me a Tale is its own way a sort of prequel to this series, it is not necessary to have read it. The only thing you need to know going into this story (and this is where the spoiler for season 2 comes in) is that Algie has never seen a picture of Esper Vespertilio and therefore does not recognize her when he meets her.
> 
> Many, many thanks to Hovercraft79, without whom this fic and this series would certainly not exist. She has been tireless in her cheerleading and very generous in helping me brainstorm (so much brainstorming!), besides gently tossing plot bunnies my way. This story is very much the better for her input.
> 
> Title comes from a translation of a line in Verdi's _Falstaff_ , which I saw rendered as "When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew."

It had always been out of the question that Algernon would be able to do a Grand Tour—the Rowans, though well-established and possessing a sizeable piece of land in the part of ---shire where they resided, were cash poor. The Webbs were wealthy enough, but Isobel’s parents had not entirely approved of her decision to marry Lucinda and move to the Rowan estate, and the marriage settlements had been less than generous. 

Isobel and Lucinda had hoped that when Algie attained his majority that he would be able to spend some months in London, with Isobel’s sister Nell and her family. Nell would have been only too happy to have hosted her nephew, had her wife’s work not taken them to Switzerland for an indeterminate amount of time. 

Algie did not, therefore, make it London until several years later when his cousin Roderick, Nell and Glynis’ son, returned to the metropolis to take up residence, after completing his schooling.

Algie was pleasantly surprised to receive the invitation from Roddy – he’d always gotten along fairly well with him, although as Roddy was five years the elder they’d never been terribly close. Still, Roddy was a nice enough chap, if a bit scatter-brained. And for all his cousin’s rather careless ways he was a bright young man, who would in time no doubt have a respectable career.

Roddy proved to be a good-natured and generous companion, making suggestions and choosing schemes that would allow Algie to make the most of his trip. The two cousins’ tastes did not align in all matters, but Roddy was perfectly willing to accompany Algie to whatever activity he desired, and took care to introduce him to his friends.

It was an adventure not out of the ordinary, until the night of the Oakthorne’s ball. Phyllida and Hubert Oakthorne’s annual masquerade was, if not _the_ event of the season, one of the most anticipated.

* * *

“You told me there would be a lot of people, but I never imagined this.” Algie knew he was gawping, but couldn’t help himself. A line of party-goers snaked from the front door well down the main drive.

“Quite the crush, ain’t it?”

“It’s hard to believe. And the grounds and the house are extraordinary.”

Lights twinkled all over, illuminating climbing rose bushes, topiaries and walks.

“Hard to imagine we’re still in London,” Algie continued.

“Yes, that’s part of the intended effect. The Oakthornes have a genius of vision for creating a world away from the world, just for the one night, and they have the money and connections to make it happen. An illusion like this requires a tremendous amount of magic, and the work of very skilled witches and wizards.”

“I can imagine. It’s beautiful.”

* * *

There was such a crush of people that they had to wait some time for their turn to be announced. Finally, they reached the footman, who was clad in midnight blue livery. Roddy whispered their chosen names for the evening to him.

“Master Adrien Christophle and Master John Kingcup,” the footman intoned, though Algie barely heard him, entranced as he was by the sight of the people on the dance floor below. Roddy nudged him. “Move,” he whispered.

Algie nearly tripped over himself as he stepped on the hem of his robes, and grabbed the railing for support. He discreetly grabbed a fistful of robe with his other hand and concentrated on descending the smooth marble steps, which, now that he was on them, seemed interminable. 

“Not bad,” Roddy said into his ear when they finally reached the bottom. “Now remember, chin up and smile. And breathe.”

Algie had thought there were a lot of people before, but now, out amongst them they seemed to have multiplied five-fold. It was hard to see how there was room for dancing, but that might have been only because he could not see past the knots of people around him.

“Is that Freddie over there? I do believe it is.” Roddy threaded his way through the crowd, Algie close behind.

“Freddie, dear boy,” Roddy clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Roddy! Algie, good to see you! You two look marvelous! Have you been here long?”

“Just got here.”

“Then darling, may I have this dance, before someone else snatches you up?”

Roddy glanced at Algie.

“Don’t worry about me,” Algie said. “I’m still taking this all in. It really is extraordinary. You go on, Roddy.”

“Thanks,” Roddy replied. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he winked, and allowed Freddie to sweep him off into the next set.

As Algie scanned the room, he inadvertently caught the glance of a woman in a butterfly mask, and his heart leapt as though upon seeing an old and cherished friend. The thought _I am home_ passed through his mind, though where such a thought came from quite bewildered him, and he was certain he had never seen the woman before.

She smiled, and inclined her head. Before he quite knew what he was doing, he realized that he had raised his arm slightly and had waved at her in a tentative manner. He took the hand and shoved it under his arm, mentally chiding himself for being a fool.

But then she waved back at him, and, emboldened he made his way through the crowd to her side. “My lady,” he greeted her, executing a low bow. “May I have the honor of this dance?”

“I would be delighted, dear sir,” the lady replied with a smile.

Algie was equal parts relieved and disappointed as he led the lady onto the dance floor, that the musicians were playing the opening bars of a country dance. It was a least, one that he was familiar with and therefore he need not worry about embarrassing himself before the woman.

“Your butterfly mask is very beautiful,” he said, as they made a circle around their set.

“Thank you. Yours is quite the work of art as well. Almost as handsome as you are yourself,” she winked, “I can almost smell the flowers. What sort of plant is it?”

“Th-thank you,” he stammered. “They’re marsh marigolds. My cousin Ro—I mean, Master Christophle, that is” Algie flushed. “This is my first masquerade, and it is hard to remember to call him by his nom-de-ball, he painted the mask.”

She burst out laughing. “You sir, are an Original indeed.” Her eyes sparkled. “Nom-de-ball. I will have to remember that.”

He felt heat rise to his cheeks.

“You know, you are even more becoming when you blush,” she said lightly, eyes sparkling.

“My lady, I hardly know what to say.”

“Well you need not say anything if you do not wish. I dare say we have covered the pleasantries and society does not require anything more of us. But then, social conventions are so dull, wouldn’t you agree? Why don’t you tell me about yourself, instead? Do you share your cousin’s artistic talents?”

“Painting and sketching are not among my skills, but I do have a fondness for music.”

“Ah, I see. And do you play or sing?”

“I sing only to myself, my lady, and play a little piano. But I enjoy listening to music.”

“Do you indeed?”

They were obliged to part as they threaded their way through the other dancers.

“And what sort of music do you like?” she asked when they were close enough to speak again.

“Oh lots of things – opera, symphonic, rock, pop, chant.”

“A man of eclectic tastes. Have you been enjoying the musical offerings this season?”

“Very much so. I am lately come to London, and the variety here is much greater than in my home village. We have quite decent musical offerings ourselves, but we can’t hold a candle to London. Here I have seen _La Cenerentola_ , and _The Witch of Bygone Years_. I arrived a few days too late to see Esper Vespertilio in _Ye of Little Faith_ , but my cousin was able to get tickets for her recital next week at Rosewater Academy Hall.”

“Was he indeed? Then we shall see each other again.”

“Oh, are you going too? Are you a fan of Madame Espertilio’s? Have you heard her in person before? I’ve only ever heard her records, which are incredible enough in their own right, but to hear her live is one of the things I’ve most been looking forward to.”

“You—” she stumbled slightly, and then held his gaze for a long moment, searching for he knew not what. She shook her head.

“What is it?”

“For a moment I thought I knew who you were,” she replied. “I was mistaken.”

“I feel as though I know you as well,” he offered. “Though I am sure I have never seen you before in my life. But I would gladly give you my name in exchange for yours, fair lady.”

“Do you truly not know it already?” 

“No, how should I?”

She considered him, and then smiled. “Of course, why should you? As you say, we have not seen each other before, and you are only lately come to London.” She hesitated. “I wondered only, because sometimes people are shockingly indiscreet at these parties.”

“A little too much champagne and witches brew?”

“Something like that. But to answer your question, yes I have heard Esper Vespertilio live.”

“I envy you. She is quite something, isn’t she?”

“I like to think so.” 

Algie could have sworn she was on the verge of laughing.

“Have I said something amusing?” he asked curiously.

“I do beg your pardon. It is nothing; I was laughing at myself, not at you, I assure you.”

The dance came to a close.

“It is rather hot in here, may I get you something to drink?”

“That is very kind of you sir, but I see a friend whom I must speak to for a few minutes before she disappears into the throng again. But I hope you will save me another dance, later in the evening.”

“With pleasure.”

“Until we meet again,” she curtseyed, and was quickly swallowed up by the crowd.

Algie found himself a glass of champagne and small puff pastry. He sat down on a plush bench, a little out of the way and observed the party, a warm glow that had nothing to do with alcohol, suffusing his body.

“There you are, cousin,” Roddy came into view, accompanied by another young man in scarlet robes and a matching mask with golden clocks painted upon it. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Very much indeed.”

“I am delighted to hear it, old boy. May I present this young man to you?”

“Sir,” Algie bowed. “I am honored.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” the young man smiled. “Might I beg the honor of a dance?”

“Of course, that would be delightful.”

The young man was a charming partner and skilled dancer, which Algie appreciated all the more as this dance was one that he was only a little familiar with. His partner led so skillfully, though that Algie felt as though he had been dancing it all his life, and his partner’s conversation was lively and witty.

Algie caught a glimpse of the lady with the butterfly mask, now dancing with an elegant woman in a shimmering lavender gown, before they whirled away, out of his sight, and a few moments later, Roddy and Freddy passed by, robes swirling.

“Your cousin and that young man make a charming pair, don’t you think?” Algie’s partner said conversationally.  
“Yes,” Algie agreed. 

At the end of the dance Algie’s partner took hand and brushed his lips lightly across Algie’s knuckles. “A pleasure, sir,” he said. “I hope I may have the pleasure of making your acquaintance formally at some later date.”

“I am always glad of an opportunity to make a new acquaintance who may yet become a friend,” Algie replied. “And as you seem to know my cousin I dare say it is likely to come to pass.”

“I would too welcome a new friend,” the young man smiled, “but that was not precisely what I meant.”

“Ah, I see,” Algie bit his lip. “If I have raised false expectations, I apologize. My heart is not free, you see,” he continued gently.

“There is nothing to apologize for; you have been a perfect gentleman. I would be lying if I said I was not disappointed, but I understand perfectly. I hope I may still hope for your friendship?”

“Of course. Any friend of my cousin’s is someone I would be honored to call friend.”

The young man smiled. “Then I expect we will meet again. If you will excuse me…”

Algie danced with several other people, enjoying himself tremendously. 

He felt a touch on his elbow. “I hope you’ve saved a spot for me on your dance card.”

“My lady,” he smiled. “Your wish is my command.”

As they arranged themselves for the dance he asked, “Am I permitted now to ask for your name?”

“You certainly may ask, but I don’t think I will answer you.”

“You are toying with me, madam,” he laughed, half-accusatory.

“Perhaps a little,” she looked up at him through her eyelashes. “But one must have a little mischief at a masquerade, dear sir. And how else am I to be sure that I will see you again this evening?”

The clock began to strike midnight, just out of time with music.

“Are you always this daring?”

“Oh no, usually I am far more shocking, I assure you. But one must behave with a modicum of propriety at these sorts of events.”

“I cannot tell if you are teasing or serious.”

“Perhaps I am both.”

“Ah, now I know who you are!”

“Do you?”

“Yes, you madam, must be an Eccentric.”

She let out a shaky breath and chuckled. “That is certainly one of the names people have called me.”

“Dear lady, I did not mean to insult you.”

Her face softened. “No, I know you did not. Nor do I take it as an insult, really. There are some that try to make it sound like one, but I know you had no such intention, young man.”

“Young man? You are hardly in your dotage, my lady.”

“Now don’t you be affronted, my good sir. Of course I am not but having attained more years than you I am entitled to use ‘young man’.” 

“You don’t know how old I am,” he replied loftily. 

The effect of his assumed air was somewhat spoiled when she burst out laughing.

“Oh my dear,” she wiped her streaming eyes. “I do not need to know your precise age to be able to tell that you are rather younger than myself.”

“I will have you know that I entered my majority, oh, several years ago now.”

“Several years ago, is it?” And somehow she was even more beautiful when she was teasing him. “I do hope all this dancing is not too taxing to your aged frame, o greybeard.”

“If I said it was might I be able to steal you away from this crowd for a bit?”

“I applaud your boldness, Sir Greybeard, but it will not do. You may, however, take me in to supper.”

He swept a low bow and held out his arm. “My lady?”

She inclined her head and rested her hand lightly upon his arm. “Very prettily done, sir.”

* * *

“My goodness,” Algie breathed faintly. “I am certain the card of invitation said it was to be a light supper.”

His dinner companion patted his arm. “And so it is, for an event as grand as this one. There are degrees of light suppers, you know.”

“Are there?”

“Come, we will get you a small plate and a glass of something to fortify you.” She guided him to the far end of the room. “Sit there,” she commanded, gesturing to a divan. “I will return shortly. Don’t move.”

He had thought that the ballroom was somewhat loud, but it was nothing compared to the supper room. The scrape of serving utensils on dishes, the people speaking over each other, the rustle of clothing. Scraps of conversation would pop out the general humdrum:

“—but you know she never meant it, she’s always—”

“—that is what told him—”

“—these little pink things are really good—”

“—Honestly, George, I don’t know why I bother with you—”

“Here you go.”

He blinked, and realized he recognized that last voice. His partner was standing before him, a plate in one hand a glass in another.

“It can be a bit overwhelming, can’t it?” she said, in a gentle voice. “Come on, let’s find a quieter place.”

He held out his hands.

She shook her head. “I’ll carry them.”

She led him off into a side room that had a variety of small tables. “Let’s sit here,” she suggested, putting the plate and glass down on table near a window. She removed her shawl and placed it on one chair. “Be back in a jiffy.”

She returned a short while later.

“There, now we can be comfortable.”

She raised her glass. “To new friends, and new adventures.”

“Cheers.”

“I didn’t know what you like, so I brought you a few of my favorites, and a couple of other things, just in case.” She selected a small quiche from her own plate and took a bite.

“Thank you. It all looks delicious. So what do you do, in your regular life?” He took a bite out of a pastry.

“Hmm, what do I do? Well, I suppose you could say I teach critical and creative thinking in a non-traditional manner. And you?”

“I’m still figuring that out,” he laughed ruefully. “I have certainly thought of teaching – the traditional sort, I mean. I love figuring out how spells work – it’s very satisfying. And I think there’s room for improvement in the way it’s taught – so many students find it dull and uninteresting but it’s actually quite fascinating. I’ve had both good teachers and bad in it, and there was this one professor I had uni, she had a real gift for teaching and for engaging with the students, and I thought ‘this is how it should be’. So many times I think students are turned off of subjects not because of the subject itself but the manner in which it is taught, which is such a shame.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I got a bit carried away there.” He took a sip of champagne.

“Don’t apologize, it’s wonderful to have a passion for something. And I quite agree with you. Students often mistake poor teaching for uninteresting subject matter, and who can blame them? If the only exposure you’ve had to a subject is a dry and dull class, then how are you to know how exciting it can be?”

“Exactly!”

“Is this your first time in London?”

“No, but it is the first in a very long time. We used to come occasionally for the holidays when I was a child. It’s funny, how things look different as an adult.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, London is still loud and somewhat overwhelming, but not to the same degree. Nothing is quite so large as I remember it. The parks have changed, of course. The museums have re-arranged some of their collections, or perhaps I just wasn’t interested in some of these things before. And some streets that I thought I remembered well don’t look the same anymore. I’m not sure if it’s just that some of the shops changed, or if I’m misremembering them, or what. And of course, the weather was different for I was here at a different time of year. Do you live in London?”

“Yes, and have done my whole life, aside from school of course. I’ve done a bit of travelling though.”

“Oh? Where to?”

“Here and there. A bit around England and Scotland, and bit on the Continent.”

“How exciting! I’d love to hear about some of your adventures.”

“It’d be a bit complicated to explain them to you now, but I’d be happy to do so another time.”

“I look forward to it. May I get you some dessert?”

“That would be very nice, thank you. And perhaps a cup of tea, if they’ve got it? Two sugars, no milk.”

He stood. “I am wholly at your service, my lady.”

“Be careful what you offer sir, I might take you up on it.”

“I will bear that in mind.” He bowed and went off to select dessert, grinning like a loon. 

When he returned a person in elegantly tailored dress robes of deep blue laced with an intricate design in silver thread was talking to his companion. As Algie approached the table, he saw the blue-robed figure bow stiffly and turn towards Algie. The wizard was wearing a blue and silver harlequin mask, and his features looked vaguely familiar. Algie wondered if he could be related to someone famous, as he seemed rather young to be famous himself.

“Sir,” the wizard nodded to him and swept away.

Algie lifted his eyebrows in inquiry to the lady as he set down two plates and a cup of tea.

“Thank you.” She pulled one of the plates closer to her. “That was a young man I am slightly acquainted with,” she said by way of explanation. “He wanted to dance with me but I told him I was already engaged to dance the next dance with you. There is no real harm in him but he is a trifle prosy and overeager. He’s still very young,” she added reflectively, “and learning his way about the world.”

She took a sip of tea. “I think there is probably still hope for him yet.” 

“I wish him luck then. What shall we try first?”

“You can’t go wrong with any of them, the Oakthornes always have excellent sweets.”

“Oh my goodness, this is divine,” he said around a mouthful of raspberry jammy dodger. “Just melts in your mouth. Sorry,” he added, belatedly covering his mouth with his napkin and swallowing. “Quite forgot my manners there. My parents would be quite shocked.”

“Your secret is safe with me. Try the lemon bar,” she suggested.

“Ohhhhh. Do you think they’d let me have the recipe? One of my mums absolutely adores lemon bars.”

“They might,” she chuckled. “Hubert is generally a very generous man.”

“Hubert as in Hubert Oakthorne? You know him?”

“Ah, yes,” and for the first time that evening, she looked slightly uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to let that slip, but he and Phyllida are lovely, and Hubert is an excellent pastry chef.”

“Well it would be wonderful to be able to send my mums the recipe. I owe them a letter anyway.”

A corner of her mouth twitched. “You know what they say about snail mail, right?”

“It’s a little sluggish!” they finished together and beamed at one another.

“I’m so glad we found each other tonight,” she said warmly, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

“Me too.” He knew he was smiling in what was probably a ridiculous fashion, but he couldn’t help himself, especially not when she was looking at him the way she was right now.

“Shall we dance?” she asked.

“Nothing would please me more, but are you certain? Ro-My cousin assured me in the strongest possible terms that dancing with the same partner more than twice was quite scandalous indeed.”

“It is most certainly scandalous and will set the gossip-monger’s tongues wagging, but I set no store by that. If I attempted to limit my behavior to only that of which Society would approve, I should never get anything done. People have said all manner of things about me, they can hardly be shocked that I would commit the grave social transgression of a forbidden third dance.”

“If you don’t care,” Algie replied, throwing caution to the wind, “than neither do I.”

* * *

“You didn’t bribe the musicians, did you?” Algie asked as they began waltzing around the floor.

“What makes you say that?”

“The only way we could be even more scandalous by dancing a third time together is by waltzing together,” he pointed out.

She smiled enigmatically. “And you think I might, ah orchestrate such a thing, if you’ll forgive the pun?”

“I’m beginning to think that you are capable of a great many things, my lady.”

“Oh, more than you imagine, I dare say.”

Algie felt a little giddy, and wondered if it was the dancing or the proximity or both. He had not fully appreciated how exhilarating the waltz could be, with the right partner.

“I never knew that dancing could feel so much like flying,” he marveled.

“And on the wild winds she flew/in that great and wondrous midnight blue/and all the night and all the day/she danced and danced her heart away.”

“I don’t recognize that, what is it?”

“It’s from of one of Louisa Dovecote’s poems. We had a beautifully illustrated copy of her collected poems, when I was growing up, that I adored. I spent many a happy hour pouring over that book. They are not terribly good poems, I will admit, but they will always have a special place in my heart.”

“Hmm, let me see…” Algie mused. “Ah yes. ‘There was an Old Man in a tree/Who was terribly bored by a bee/When they said “Does it buzz?” he replied “Yes it does!/It’s a regular brute of a bee!” ‘ “ 

“Edward Lear! That does take me back.” 

With a pang Algie realized that the dance was coming to its end.

“Surely they have chosen to play the shortest waltz there is,” he blurted out in dismay.

“Dear sir, will you not come with me on to the terrace to observe the stars? They are supposed to be especially fine tonight.” 

“Gladly, my lady.”

* * *

The night air was cool but not unpleasantly so. 

“You really can see the stars,” he said in some surprise. “Not so well as in the country of course, but remarkably well, under the circumstances. Are they using an enchantment for greater visibility?”

She leaned against the railing next to him. “Of a sorts. They charm the light so that it does not move upward or reflect upward as it would without it.”

“I do not think we really came out here to admire the stars though, did we?”

“They are very beautiful of course, but no, that was not my only intention.”

Silence hung between them, the sounds of the party receding into the distance.

“Will you tell me your name?” he asked.

“I will, if you will first tell me yours.”

“With the greatest of pleasure, madam” He bowed deeply. “My name is Algernon Rowan-Webb. I lay it at your feet.”

“Good sir,” she touched his hand and he straightened. “I am Gwendolyn Bat.”

“I am enchanted to make your acquaintance, Lady Gwendolyn.”

“Mr. Rowan-Webb,” she laughed, “that was monstrously prettily said, but I think we can dispense with the formalities. Gwen will do nicely, thank you. And besides,” she winked, skimming her fingers up his arm, “ ‘Lady Gwendolyn’ suggests a level of propriety and dull stuffiness that I have no desire to attempt.”

“Then you must call me Algie.”

“Well met, Algie.”

They were so close now that he could feel her breath tickling his cheek. He put a hand on her waist. She tilted her head and he could feel her start to push herself up on her toes, when she froze, mere a bare inch between their mouths.

She sank back down on her heels.

“What is it?”

“We should not,” Gwen replied, her tone laced with regret. “It would not be fair to you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This has been the loveliest of nights, Algie. But we really know so little of each other, and I have the advantage of you, you see.”

“You mean you know who I am?” he asked, confused.

“Better than you do me, at least.”

“I am willing to listen.”

Gwen shook her head. Algie let go, and she let her hand fall from his arm. He cleared his throat.

“May I call upon you sometime?”

“By all means, I would like that very much. You may call upon tomorrow, or rather later today even, if you wish.”

She rummaged in a pocket, pulled out a card, and held it out to him.

He took it, their fingers brushing, and she did not let go.

“Do come see me,” she said, and released her hold on the card.

He slid it into his own pocket, and took her hand, bringing the back of it up to his lips.

“I will,” he promised.  
“I will hold you to that.”

She turned his hand over and pressed a kiss to his palm.

“Goodnight, Algie, and thank you for the splendid evening.”

“I think this has been the nicest night of my whole life,” he said simply. “Thank you.”

“Don’t you dare make me cry, young man,” she scolded, halfway between laughter and tears.

“Never.” 

She sank into a beautifully executed curtsey, turned, and disappeared back into the ballroom.

He remained where he was, staring unseeing out onto the grounds, until the door opened again and he heard the giggles of another couple.

“Oh!” one of them gasped. “There’s someone here already.”

“No, no, do stay,” Algie assured them. “I was just going inside myself.”

He slipped back into the ballroom, closing the door firmly behind him. He danced with a few more partners, allowing himself to be caught up in the general merriment. He did not see Gwen again, but whether this was because she had left or was elsewhere he did not know. Just as he was thinking of retiring to an alcove for a few minutes, he caught sight of Roddy.

“Cousin!” Algie called. “It’s getting a bit late for me, I think I might go home, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”  
“I don’t mean to drag you away if you’d like to stay, I can make it home on my own.”

“Are you sure? I’m happy to go with you.”

“I’ll be perfectly alright, I’ll take one of those return carriages you told me about. You stay and enjoy yourself.”

“Here,” Roddy pulled a key from his pocket and handed it to Algie.

“I’ve already got a key, remember?”

“I know, but use this to get in the house, and I’ll know you arrived safe and sound. I’m sure you’ll be fine, but it’s good to be careful this time of night, and your mums would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”

“I will. You stay safe too.”

The carriage was warm and comfortable, and spelled to move as smoothly over the cobbled streets. Algie, lost in thought, felt as though no at all had passed from when he got in to when it arrived at the Webb’s front door.

As he let himself in, the key pulsed once in his hand. He made his way upstairs, changed into his pajamas, and collapsed into bed, falling quickly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have played fast and loose with the time setting in this story - it owes something both to the romantic comedies of Georgette Heyer (which mostly take place in the early-mid 1800s, if I recall correctly) and to the Jeeves and Wooster stories of P.G. Wodehouse (late 1920s-30s). I essentially imagine Roddy as, besides being a wizard, entirely likely to be the sort of fellow who could be a part of Bertie Wooster's set.
> 
> For the curious, Roddy's nom-de-ball, Adrien Christophle is a variation on a type of apricot-colored rose known as Adrienne Christophle, introduced in France in 1868 (according to helpmefind, a website I found about roses). Algie's, John Kingcup, is inspired by the marsh marigold which grace his mask - "kingcup" is another name for marsh marigold, according to Wikipedia.


	2. Oh My Giddy Bats!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Algie re-writes Gilbert and Sullivan, and is in for a bit of a shock when he learns the identity of the woman from the masquerade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol warning for this chapter. Roddy’s got a bit of a hangover from the masquerade.
> 
> Continued thanks due to P.G. Wodehouse, upon whose characters I have modeled Roddy. I also could not resist borrowing the phrase “shimmied away” from him.
> 
> Thanks and apologies to Gilbert and Sullivan, particularly to Gilbert for re-writing the tit-willow song from _The Mikado_.
> 
> Thanks again to Hovercraft79, who suggested the title of this chapter, and a tip of the hat to hiccuphardbroom (on tumblr) who put Hovercraft in mind of the phrase again.

_Dear Mums,_ Algie wrote: 

_It was so good to receive your letter last week. I am sorry that it has taken me so long to reply. Every day is a positive whirl of activity! I’d no notion that seeing the sights would be so exhausting! It was I can safely say, however, that London has exceeded my greatest expectations. It is true that at first I was not entirely sure what to think of it – it is so noisy and there are so many people and always, always, there are a multitude of activities going on, everywhere. It does not matter what time of the day or the night—London is a veritable bustle of activity._

_I wish now that I had written earlier, as I intended, for truly Roddy and I have done so much – we have been to the Victoria and Albert Museum, and the Royal Albert Hall, and Kew Gardens and the Tate and the British Museum and a great deal else besides and it would take sheets and sheets to tell it all to you._

_And last night Roddy and I attended a ball! And not just any ball, a masquerade! I was terribly nervous about it, but it turned out magnificently. It was—oh it was unlike anything I have ever experienced! Our country dances are a very different creature indeed. I dare not try to describe it now, for I am even now far too exhilarated to have any hope of coherence on the subject. But I promise that I will write soon, and in detail, as soon as I have ordered my thoughts._

_But oh, how glorious it was! I have never had such a night in my entire life._

_Sending you all my love,  
Algie_

_P.S. In my excitement about the masquerade I forgot to tell you that Roddy and I have obtained tickets to hear Esper Vespertilio perform! We go next week, and I do not know how I will manage to wait that long, but that was the soonest we could go._

* * *

All Roderick Webb wanted was to eat his breakfast in peace. It wasn’t decent for a man to be up at this hour, truly it wasn’t, especially not after a ball that had gone into the wee hours. Algie had not stayed still four as he had, it was true, but neither had Algie left so very much earlier than he. Yet here his cousin was, waltzing into the breakfast room, singing:

“The little frog leapt as he sang of his love,  
Oh fiddle dee diddle dee dum.  
And I said to him, froggie oh why do you leap,  
singing fiddle dee diddle dee dum?”

“I say, old chap, you’re disgustingly cheerful today,” Roddy complained. “Do you think you might keep it down a little? There’s an awful pounding in my head.”

Algie twirled and continued a little more softly:

“Is it joy in your heart, that makes you jump high?  
Or the nerves in your breast, that near reach the sky?  
With a nod of his sweet little head he replied:  
Oh fiddle dee diddle de duuuuuuum.”

“I’ve met Her, Roddy,” Algie sighed dreamily, and Roddy could hear the capital ‘H’. 

“Whom have you met, Algie? What are you going on about? Some filly at the ball last night?”

“Not ‘some filly’,” Algie admonished. “You should know better than that anyway. Her. The woman I’m going to marry.”

Roddy blinked. He wondered if he was, in fact dreaming, because he was pretty sure Algie had just said he intended to marry someone who he met less than a day ago. He waved his hand experimentally and blinked a few more times. Algie remained where he was, and waved back.

“Is this some kind of new game?” Algie asked, still indecently cheerful.

“Did you say you’re going to marry someone you met _for the first time_ last night?”

“Absolutely!”

Roddy ran a hand over his face.

“If you only met her last night,” he said slowly, “how can you possibly know she’s the one you’re going to marry?”

“Because I do. When you meet the person you want to marry, you’ll know,” Algie prognosticated with supreme confidence. “Trust me.”

“Are you sure you ain’t still drunk on the punch?”

“Not a bit. I only had two small glasses, and it was champagne, and those early in the evening. If I am drunk, it is on love, and love alone.”

“Well that settles it. Even my imagination could not render you so, so…Aphrodite preserve me from lovesick fools,” Roddy groaned under his breath. He heaved a sigh. “Well then, who is this marvelous ‘Her?’ I trust that you have a name, and not just one glass slipper?”

“I do indeed, dear coz. The object of my affections, the light of my life, my one true love, is Gwendolyn Bat.” Algie sighed again. “Is not Gwendolyn the most marvelous name?”

Roddy dropped his silverware with a clatter and leapt up from his seat. “Sweet Merlin’s beard, you’re not serious!” He grasped the edge of the table as his head swam painfully.

“I have never been more serious in my life.”

Roddy steadied himself and moved carefully around the table towards his cousin.

“But…but Algie, I say, Algie old chap, you _can’t_ marry Gwendolyn Bat. Really, you can’t. I don’t blame you of course, she’s a marvelously splendid person. I dare say if witches were in my line I would be in love with her too. But you can’t marry her, Algie.”

“Why not? Is she already affianced? She has not told me so.”

“Not told you so – Algie, you haven’t asked her to marry you?”

“No of course not,” Algie replied with dignity. “We will, of course have a proper courtship. We must, after all, get to know one another a little better, and if I am to be an equal partner in this marriage I must have respectable employment and be established. And I would very much like our parents’ blessing on the match, though I intend to marry her whether or not our parents approve.”

Roddy rubbed his temples. “Look, you’re star struck, of course you are, but you’d best put it out your head, old boy. Find yourself someone more attainable.”

“More attainable?” Algie frowned. “Why should she be particularly unobtainable, if she is not yet wed or affianced? Is she already in a serious relationship? Do you know her, Roddy? Roddy?” Algie repeated a little uncertainly. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You don’t know,” Roddy said in wonder.

“Don’t know what? What are you going on about?”

“How can you not know? You must, it’s not possible—but no, I can see you do not. You truly don’t know. I thought—but of course news moves differently to the country, in the country…”

“Roddy, I beg you will speak plainly with me, I cannot make head nor tails of what you are saying!” 

“Algie, I think you had better sit down, old chap.” Roddy began a little unsteadily, gripping the back of a chair for support. 

“I’m quite alright, thank you, but are you sure you shouldn’t sit down? You’ve looking a bit green about the gills.”

“Humor me.”

Algie shrugged, and sat down. “Well?”

Roddy turned a chair to face him, and sank into gratefully.

“Gwendolyn Bat is not her only name.”

Algie stared at him blankly.

“That is her given name. But she is best known by another name. A more famous name. Can you not guess it?”

“I don’t understand.” 

“Algie,” he swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, “Gwendolyn Bat is The Extraordinary Esper Vespertilio.”

“What?” Algie huffed a laugh. “Don’t tease me like that, it’s not funny, you know.”

“I’m not, I promise you. I would not serve you such a trick.”

“It can’t be,” Algie breathed, but Roddy could see the wheels turning. “Of course, why didn’t I think of it? Vespertilio, Latin for ‘bat’. Merlin’s pants!” he swore loudly, making Roddy wince. “Sorry old chap. Oh, she must think I am such a fool. Oh no, oh no oh no oh no. But she was so kind, Roddy—but of course she was. Ohhhhh,” he buried his face in his hands.

Roddy patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

“She probably didn’t think anything about it,” Roddy replied, in a jollying tone. “You’ve not the first wizard or witch, to fancy themselves in love with her.”

“I didn’t fancy so, I am,” he insisted from between his fingers. I _am_ in love with her.” He dropped his hands and stared at Roddy. “And I called upon her this morning,” he wailed.

“You did what?”

“She gave me leave to do so,” Algie replied miserably. “At least, I thought she had, and she was so kind this morning, but perhaps she was just being kind and I’ve made a terrible fool of myself.”

“You, Algernon Rowan-Webb, called on Esper Vespertilio?”

“Yes, I explained that bit already.”

“Today? This morning? You mean right after you left the ball?”

“No of course not immediately after the ball, I went to bed immediately after the ball. I called on her this morning. After I slept,” he clarified. “Can we get back to the issue at hand?”

“But how could you have done so?” Roddy demanded. “It’s barely a respectable hour of the day now!”

“Respectable hour of the day? It’s nearly noon.”

“Exactly my point!”

Algie rolled his eyes. “How on earth did you ever get through your school years?”

“Unhappily and under the greatest duress, I assure you. Nothing has pleased me so much as my freedom from the tyranny of waking with the sun.”

“What am I to do about Gwen? I mean Madame Vespertilio.” Algie worried.

“Best put her out of your mind,” Roddy advised. “No chance with a gal like that, take it from me. Unfortunate, but there it is.”

“I can’t do that. However much of an idiot I’ve been, she’s the one. I _know_ she is.”

“Steady on old chap, I know it feels like that now but that will pass. Ten-to-one you will have forgotten her by the end of next week.”

“No,” Algie said quietly. “I won’t, and it won’t.”

“You really mean that.”

“I do.” 

Roddy let out a low whistle. “You are in the soup. And Mum worries about me getting into scrapes!”

“I know,” Algie agreed mournfully.

“There’s only one thing to be done, and that’s to get you out of it. We’ll need a plan, and this is not a problem to be solved on an empty stomach. We need coffee and toast and kippers and ham and all manner of foodstuffs.

“When you’re in the soup there’s only one thing to be done and that’s to get you out of it. But we’ll need a plan, and man cannot plan on an empty stomach. We need coffee and we need eggs and toast and kippers and all manner of foodstuffs.

* * *

Fed, watered, and with a steaming carafe of coffee betwixt them, the cousins considered the situation.

“I reckon this situation ain’t as dire as you suppose, old boy,” Roddy began. “After all you were devilish cheerful when you interrupted my breakfast.”

“But Roddy, I’m sure I’ve made an absolute fool of myself.”

“I didn’t say you hadn’t. Very well might have done. Point is, she didn’t throw you out, did she?”

“No.”

“Didn’t tell you never to call on her again?”

“No.”

“In fact,” Roddy frowned in concentration, “now that I think on it I’m sure you said something about her being extremely kind. I’m sure I heard you say that at some point.”

“Yes, but—”

“Well there you go. There must be some hope for you yet. Dare say she’s had a lot of experience in turning people down, and if she didn’t want to have anything to do with you, you would know.”

“What if she was just being extremely polite and I failed to notice? You said yourself the other day that I was hopeless when it came to Society’s ways.”

“Algie,” Roddy sighed, “this is Esper Vespertilio we are talking about, remember? Esper Vespertilio, rule-breaker, maverick, who cares not a whit for convention? Look, you’re a good and honorable chap. I know you wouldn’t do anything to impose on her or make her uncomfortable, and if you somehow did by accident I am pretty certain she would tell you so. You’ve not known her twenty-four hours for goodness sakes! Stop worrying so much.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Algie replied ruefully.

“Look, old boy. Forget for a moment about your conviction that you are meant for one another. You said you wanted to court her properly? Well, do that. In fact, don’t even start with courting. Get to know her. See if you two are suited to be friends first. And don’t worry about this one true love business. If she really is your one and only, she’ll still be that after you’ve gotten to know each other properly.”

“You may be on to something there.”

“Despite appearances, I’m not completely fluff-for-brains,” Roddy grinned. 

“No, just mostly.”

“Oi!” Roddy laughed, and threw his napkin at this cousin. “I did walk right into that one, didn’t I?”

* * *

Three days later, Algie was perusing the morning newspaper in the library when the doorbell rang. He heard the door open and a low murmur of voices. The door shut, and Fenton, Roddy’s gentleman’s gentleman, knocked once on the library door and opened it.

“A lady here to see you sir,” he said.

“A lady?” Algie frowned. “Oh my giddy bats,” he yelped as comprehension dawned.

“Hello again,” Gwen greeted him, appearing behind Fenton in the doorway.

“Gwen, I mean Madam Verspertilio! I—” he stopped, as it occurred to him he had no idea what to say next.

“May I come in? I promise to not take up too much of your time.”

“Of-of course,” he replied, ingrained civility overriding his sputtering brain.

“I will bring the tea tray directly,” Fenton said, and shimmied off.

“Thank you, Fenton,” Algie replied automatically, standing and gesturing Gwen towards a free chair.

“I see you have found me out,” she said lightly, arranging her skirts and settling demurely into the chair. The dress was a sober dove grey and conservative in cut, and yet there was something about it which Algie could not put his finger on, but which made him doubt that the high sticklers of Society would approve of it.

Later he would think of all sorts of responses that he could have made to her, but what came out in the moment was: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I am not obliged to tell you anything,” she returned, and he saw her eyes flash. She took a breath. “I knew you would find out soon enough, and it was…nice, being with someone who I knew was enjoying my company because of me, and not my fame. And it was a masquerade, so I thought I would take advantage of my anonymity. Even there, there are usually quite a few people who recognize me,” she added. “It is very pleasant to be recognized, of course, but sometime one does long for a bit anonymity.”

She sighed. “We were having such a lovely time, weren’t we? I certainly was, and I was under the impression you were too. I didn’t want to spoil that with, well this,” she finished, gesturing to him vaguely.

“But why didn’t you say anything when I called on you?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she huffed. “How would you have had me casually drop it into conversation? ‘By the way you seem to have missed this but I am Esper Vespertilio, thought you should know?’ I freely admit that I am a bit of a diva, but I’m not, I hope, overly puffed up with my own consequence, or so rude as that.”

“I felt like a right idiot when Roddy told me who you were,” he admitted.

“There was no need to do so, I assure you.”

There was a discreet rap on the door, and Fenton entered, bearing a tray.

“Shall I pour, sir?”

“Yes, thank you Fenton.”

Gwen accepted the cup of tea and selected a biscuit.

Algie took a sip. Mrs. Tort, Roddy’s cook, had excellent taste in teas, and it was calming to know that whatever else happened, at least there would be excellent tea.

“You didn’t behave like an idiot, if it helps,” Gwen said gently, “and believe me, I know what that looks like,” she added with a wry twist of her lips.  
“It does.”

“I like you a lot, Algie. The last thing I want to do is pressure you into something, but I would very much like it if we were to get to know each other better.”

“I’d like that too.”

She beamed, and he was glad he was already sitting, for he felt rather wobbly about the knees. “I’m so glad. I hope I will still see you at the concert, and perhaps you and your cousin might come for dinner next Friday?”

“I will have to ask Roddy but I would be delighted.”

“Good, that’s settled then.” She set her tea cup down, and rose, and he rose too, setting his cup down with a clatter.

She held out her hand. “Next Friday, 8 o’clock sharp. I will depend on you.”

He brought her hand to within a hairsbreadth of his lips. “I look forward to it—my lady,” his eyes twinkled.

“Scamp,” she threw back at him, a smile dancing on her lips. “Now I really must be going. Friday, don’t forget.”

“I couldn’t.” 

He remained standing, a ridiculous grin on his face, long after she had swept out of the room.


End file.
